Raindrops
by AmericanPi
Summary: (DISCONTINUED) "Every thought, every action, fills me with pain. My raincloud just rains and rains and rains. And rains and rains and rains and rains, but through the storm I do remain." Pyra Cheng never thought she'd end up in the Hunger Games, but depression isn't going to be her death sentence. An author-insert fic, with a twist.
1. 1

When I wake to the sound of my alarm clock playing that irritating birdsong that I used to like but I've gotten so sick of, I'm exhausted.

Of course. I'm always tired and this is nothing new. I get out of bed, trudge to the clock at the other side of the room, and hit the off button. I wonder why I even bother to put the clock where I can't reach it from my bed, because it's not like that helps me wake up in the morning. I crawl back into the covers and go back to sleep.

_BRRRING! _Another alarm crashes through my consciousness. _Fuck it, _I think as I shut it off. I vaguely remember that today is important. It's Reaping Day. But the Reaping doesn't start until four in the afternoon so who cares about getting up early? I know I should, so I can get more things done, but I'm so tired and I feel so shitty that I just have to go back to bed.

A high, two-note piano chord wakes me up the third time, and I lie in bed, listening to a piano piece by a classical composer named Fryderyk Chopin - someone who lived very long before Panem was formed, long before the apocalypse, even. This is a scherzo, if I remember correctly. It's tumultuous and energetic, and by the time it ends I finally realize that I have to get up.

_I'll just listen to this next one, _I think as the next song plays. _Then I'll get up._

It's a Nocturne. Opus Nine, Number Three in… I don't remember the key, but it's one of those ridiculous ones with too many sharps. It's in my Chopin Nocturnes book and tried to play it once on the piano. I didn't even make it to the middle section.

The next piece starts. I don't know this one very well - I think it's an Etude, but I can't remember which one - but I finally trudge over to the chair and throw on my robe. I can put on my clothes later, when I've washed the grit out of my eyes. I turn off the alarm.

_Why am I still so exhausted? _I wonder angrily to myself as I walk to the bathroom my sister and I share. _I slept a good nine hours last night._

I _did _sleep at two AM because I was staying up writing crap and playing video games, but it's at least eleven now and normal people are up much earlier than this. At least the Reaping doesn't start until late afternoon, but nobody in District 2 wakes up this late on Reaping Day. They want to celebrate the volunteers, go party or some dumb shit like that.

_And here I am, sleeping when I could've been doing something that's actually productive._

I am _so _exhausted. But I should at least eat breakfast, or brunch at this point.

"Pi, you're up," Mom greets me with a smile as I go back to my room with my teeth brushed, my face washed, and my idiotic dental device that supposedly treats sleep apnea stored. Mom never calls me Pyra, and nobody outside my parents ever call me Pi, but I wouldn't have it any other way. Her using the nickname on me at least means that, even though we don't get along, she loves me.

"Eh," I mutter, still too tired to look at her.

I walk back to my room. The bed is really tempting, but I've slept enough. I might as well write a little.

I open up my laptop and pull up the document I was working on last night. Man, this is crap. I've been working on this submit-your-own-character story for two and a half years and I'm barely halfway done. I'm considering discontinuing it, but I don't want to be a failure at this on top of everything else.

I've written one sentence when my computer announces that it's noon. I guess I got distracted with games. Fuck, I'm such a slow writer. Just like I'm a slow worker, a slow runner, a slow everything. Everything I do takes forever because I'm always _tired_.

I'm finally getting somewhere when I hear my mother's footsteps. Ugh.

"Pi, get dressed and go downstairs to eat something," Mom says, coming to stand uncomfortably close to me. "If you don't eat you'll faint."

_No, I fucking won't, you're just being annoying, _I think, but what I actually say isn't much better.

"I'm busy."

"Eat first, then you can write."

"Seriously, Mom!" I yell, turning to her. "I'm bu-sy. I'll eat when I want to, you can leave now."

"If you don't eat you'll have low blood sugar and be even more tired," Mom presses, and I suppress the urge to roll my eyes. "Do your writing later. Come on, Pi."

"Leave me alone, I feel horrible," I say, grabbing my laptop and walking to the chair where I put my day clothes. I don't want my mother breathing down my neck right now.

"What else is new?" my sister says sarcastically from the door as my mother says she'll be back in ten minutes.

I find myself smiling, just a little bit. At least Niya isn't always asking me to _do _something.

"Hey sis," I say, closing the laptop and putting it back onto my desk. "Are you ready for today?"

"Yep!" Niya says cheerfully. "I'm going to Olivine's house after. We're going to have a Directors' Meeting."

"Good for you," I sigh as I get dressed. My eleven-year-old sister is always talking about her Directors' stuff, and honestly I wish I could be that passionate about something. I'd love to be more interested in her ridiculously complex Verse but I'm just so _tired_.

"Do you want a hug?" Niya asks, looking concerned.

"Yeah, sure," I mutter as I give Niya a hug.

Quite frankly, I'm kind of annoyed by my sister's love of hugs - but then again, I'm annoyed with everything. Still, I'm touched that Niya cares enough to cheer me up in a way that isn't unbearably annoying.

"I'm sorry," I say as I step away from Niya and open the window. "I'm just so _depressed_."

"What else is new?" Niya says, and I laugh. It's become a running joke at this point.

"See, you laughed," Niya says with a grin.

"You're so funny, Niya," I say genuinely as my tiredness slowly dissipates. "I'm going to go eat."

"I'll be in my room if you need me," Niya says. "Oh, and I need the computer."

I want to groan, but I'm willing to sacrifice my computer time for Niya. At least she's doing something actually productive.

"Sure," I say as I hand my sister the laptop.

"Thanks," she chirps and hurries to her room.

I sigh as I walk down the stairs towards the kitchen. This is going to be a long couple of weeks.

I've never liked the Hunger Games. They're in their twenty-eighth year with no signs of slowing down, but I only watch when I have to. It's really depressing.

At least I live in District 2. For as long as I can remember there has been two trained volunteers from our District who want to be in the Games. I think they're dumb for volunteering for a death match, but at least that means that people like me who have no interest or readiness for the Games are safe. I'll still have to sit through watching the Hunger Games but at least I won't _die_. And I _know _I'll die if I ended up in the Games because I'm a depressed peanut - my sister calls me that - who has the physical fitness of a chair.

"Good morning, Pi," Dad says, looking up from his newspaper.

"Morning," I mumble.

I don't really want to talk to my father. I don't have a good relationship with him, either. My parents love me, but I still think they're disappointed in me for becoming depressed and they always want me to do more.

The worst part is that they're right. Why _am_ I not doing more? Most people my age have a job by now, or are training in the Academy. I can barely get through school with a C average, and I know my parents are disappointed in me regarding that because I used to be a straight-A student.

I just need to finish school and move out of my parents' house because the longer I spend here the shittier I'll feel. But who knows how long _that _will take? How can I hold a job when I'm _tired _all the time?

"Pi, do you want to go to the Academy?" my father asks. "Mission is having free training today."

Are you. Fucking. Kidding me.

"No," I say as I get my food.

"It could be fun," my mother says from where she's sitting in the next room, working on her landlady stuff. "This is your last day to take advantage of the training facilities we have."

"I _said _no," I snap. "I know you want me to get out of my depression but I don't want to and I hope you can respect that."

"Can't you say that in a nicer way?" Mom says. She's trying to give me a hug. Who knows when she got here? I move away.

"Please, can I have a hug?" Mom asks.

"Fine," I mutter, but only because I want her to get off my back. I can't believe they're doing this. I've told them multiple times before that I have no interest in Career training and I'm already doing everything I can. I know that they want to cure my depression but it just doesn't work that way. It's been a long time. My depression can't be cured.

"I'm going to eat some fruit," I say.

"Good job!" Mom exclaims as if it's a major achievement for me. Which it is, but she doesn't have to be so annoying.

I wish I didn't think of my parents as annoying. I wish I had a better relationship with them. I know I'm being unfair to them because they're right in that I should be doing more and they aren't doing anything wrong as parents. But my therapist has helped me realize that me wanting to cut ties with my parents is valid.

I just wish life wasn't so shitty.

I grab a disgusting banana from the fruit basket and move to sit in the dining room rather than the kitchen, where my father is. This is going to be a long day.

* * *

**A/N: Uh, hey. I've been wanting to write a story like this for a while now, and I've realized that while I can't have two SYOTs going on at once I also lose motivation with just one SYOT going on. So I struck a compromise with this story, which is a new concept that I haven't seen before.**

**You know those Hunger Games stories where an OC who is most likely an author insert is Reaped? Yeah, this is one of those, but with a twist. This is also a partial SYOT.**

**How does that work, you may ask? Well, this story will be entirely from the point of view of my character, the District 2 Female. That's how it's an author-insert story. However, I'm allowing YOU to submit the remaining twenty-three tributes!**

**Here's the Google Form, which is also on my profile (remember to remove the spaces):**

**forms . g l e / JBmor9P7tBhh2qd6A**

**I don't have many rules because I'm willing to take any tribute I get, but please visit my profile for submission guidelines. Also, I'll mention here in case you missed it that this is the 28th Games, so Careers have been established, but this story isn't canon-compliant.**

**I'm not sure how quickly I'll be writing this but I'll shoot for once a month. This is an interesting experiment with the story's style, so let's see how it goes.**

**Please let me know what you think, if you can! What do you think of Pyra? Is she sympathetic, and if she isn't is she at least someone you're interested in reading about? Let me know in the reviews!**

**I'll see you all hopefully soon!**


	2. 2

"I'm going to get ready for the Reaping, guys, so please don't keep asking," I call out as I throw away the peel from the disgusting banana I had.

"Let me know when you're ready to go," Mom says as I turn to head back up the stairs.

"Alright," I say before walking up the stairs back into my room. I sigh as I open up my closet and grab my solid blue dress, the sleeveless one with the black leather belt. It's not the nicest dress I have, but I'm not volunteering anyways and it's presentable enough for me to be standing in a crowd with it.

"Hey Niya," I call out as soon as I've changed. "Can I use the computer for about ten minutes?"

"Uh, uh, eight more minutes so I can finish this video," Niya calls back. I suppress the urge to yell because I want the computer _now_, but my sister doesn't deserve me yelling at her just because I'm in a bad mood like always.

"Alright, I'll be in your room in eight minutes," I say.

What am I going to do in eight minutes? That's far too short of a time to start anything because then I'd lose my focus. I decide to sort our dirty laundry a bit. That isn't ideal because I'm in this nice dress, but honestly I don't care.

I get full laundry duty in our house. It's actually the only way I can contribute to the laundry without going crazy. If I let anyone else in the family touch the laundry, they always mess it up in one way or another and it makes me so pissed. I know it's extremely petty, but it is what it is. Sometimes I just get anxiety attacks over things that normal people think are minor.

When I feel like eight minutes have passed, I walk out of the bathroom and knock on my sister's door. Hopefully she won't ask for more time because that would make me pissed - I mean, she _said _she just needed eight minutes to finish her video - but I'll deal.

I walk into Niya's room and approach her desk, where she's laughing loudly at a video.

"Hey," I say, tapping my sister's shoulder and trying not to sound like a bitch. "Can I have it now?"

She doesn't respond, so I squeeze her shoulder.

"Huh?" Niya says loudly, taking her earphones out of her ears.

"It's my turn," I say.

"Okay, here you go," Niya says, unplugging the laptop and handing it to me.

"Thanks," I sigh. Well, it could've been worse. I walk out of her room while carrying the laptop.

"Hey, don't forget to get dressed for the Reaping," I call out to Niya as soon as I'm out of her door.

"I'm doing that right now," she says.

"Great."

I sigh and smile as I put the laptop down onto my desk and open up Wyvern, District 2's digital instant messaging system. My best friend Artemis isn't online right now, but I might as well say hi before the Reaping.

hello!

it's reaping day

i'll meet you at our usual place before the reaping starts

I wait a while, but Artemis doesn't respond. If we still lived in the same town we could drive to the Reaping together. But my best friend moved away five years ago. Her parents decided that she "needed more support" so they sent her to a smaller school.

_If Artemis hadn't moved away, would I still be depressed? _I wonder. _It was hard to find friends in real life after she left._

At least there are the Wyvern servers. I don't know the people on there in real life - in fact, I don't even know their real names - but at least they're friends.

I open up my writing server, which is a chatroom for writers like me. A few people are online, which makes me smile a little. The server has been bursting with activity since I last checked - understandable, since today is Reaping Day - and I read through the messages I missed before saying hi.

Time flies by, and pretty soon I'm aware that we should drive to the Main Square for the Reaping. My family lives in the main town, but we're still a bit too far from the Main Square to get there on foot. Parking is going to be a nightmare - actually, the whole ordeal of the Reaping is going to be a nightmare, with the entire population of District 2 squeezed in one place - and I'm really looking forward for it to be over.

I sigh, stand up, and stretch before going to Niya's room to fetch her.

* * *

**A/N: I hope you enjoyed! This SYOT still has a lot of open slots. Unfortunately all the female slots are closed, but a lot of male tribute slots are open, so please submit, especially to District 2 Male. I thought that would be a popular slot but it's hard for me to continue when Pyra doesn't have a District Partner. Whether or not you're new, please do consider sending tributes! I'll take whoever I get, and it's first-come-first served.**

**I'll see you all hopefully soon!**


	3. 3

I walk over to Niya's room and knock quickly on the door before going in. My sister is drawing at her desk and doesn't look up as I make my way towards her.

"Hey, Niya," I say, patting my younger sister gently on the shoulder. "It's time to go to the Reaping."

"Oh, sure," Niya says with a smile. "Let me just go to the bathroom."

"Why didn't you go while you were getting ready?" I ask.

"Sorry," Niya says, but she's still smiling as she hurries to the bathroom. I make my way over to the top of the stairs.

"Come down as soon as you're done," I call out.

"Okay," Niya responds.

I walk down the stairs with a sigh. I'm really not looking forward to the Reaping. In addition to the fact that the entire District will be there, I'll have to deal with the pain of getting my finger pricked for a blood sample. The thought of the check-in makes my heart beat faster in fear.

At least I'll see Artemis. We'll stand together the way we do every year, and after it's over we'll part ways. Sometimes I think it'd be nice to hang out with her after the Reaping, but both of us usually end up so overwhelmed by the whole ordeal that we just want to go home. We have Wyvern to chat with each other anyways.

"Hey Mom, hi Dad," I say wearily as I make my way into the kitchen. "I'm totally ready to go to the Reaping. Niya's in the bathroom and should be down soon."

It takes far too long, but eventually the four of us are sitting in our family minivan as Mom drives us to the Reaping. The ride lasts for about twenty minutes, with the traffic getting worse the closer we get to the Main Square. We follow the signs and pointing Peacekeepers to the designated parking areas and manage to snag a decent spot.

I get off the car and walk with my family towards the Square. When we get to the check-in, I take a deep breath, steeling myself for the pain that's about to come.

"I'll meet you guys at the car," I say to my family.

"Have fun!" Niya calls, smiling and waving at me as I get in line. The anticipation of getting my finger pricked makes my heart race in fear, and I force myself to take deep breaths. When it's finally my turn to check in, tears stream down my face as my finger is pricked. I don't care if people are staring. It hurts, and I'm just another person in the crowd so who cares if I'm crying?

I suck on my finger, hating the taste of blood, as I look for Artemis. I find her at our usual spot and smile at her as I walk over to her.

"Hello," Artemis says in her characteristic quiet voice. "What's new?"

"Nothing much," I sigh as we walk towards the section for eighteen-year-old females. "I felt really bad this morning but hopefully I'll be able to get a few things done when I get home later today."

"What are you working on?" Artemis asks.

"Just the usual stuff," I say with a shrug. "Writing, music practice, maybe a little bit of art."

The Reaping begins at four with the Mayor taking the stage to introduce the audience to the Hunger Games. It's pretty much the same speech every year, and I find myself zoning out until the Mayor introduces our escort.

Glitter Diamond bounces onto the stage in a silver gown that sparkles way too much. She started escorting for District 2 during the 26th Games, and every year her outfit is absolutely ridiculous. This year, she's wearing perplexing getup involving gigantic hoop earrings, a noisily patterned pair of elbow-length gloves, and a tall top hat with an impossibly wide brim. I wonder why they hired this woman. At least our previous escort wasn't a total ditz.

"Hiii District 2!" Glitter screeches, and the microphone squeaks with feedback. I cringe as the crowd around me roars with thunderous cheers and applause. A few people even blow vuvuzelas, which is ridiculous. How did they allow people to sneak those things to the Reaping?

"I'm your escort, Glitter Diamond!" Glitter continues, barely lowering her volume. "I am so, so _so _glad to be here for the Reaping of the Twenty-Eighth Annual Hunger Games! Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor!"

The District roars again, undoubtedly ready to welcome our two volunteers this year. I clap a little but I honestly just want this whole ordeal to be over.

"I'd love to keep talking, but it's time for our two tributes to take center stage," Glitter says, excitedly clasping her hands together. "Let's find out which brave young woman and valiant young man will be competing in the Hunger Games, the greatest event of our proud nation of Panem. You know, speaking of Panem, the other day my friend Chandelier was telling me how much he was looking forward to visiting District 4. He called it the best District! I was so shocked and betrayed, how can any District compare to the majesty of District 2?"

Glitter pauses, and the crowd cheers once more. So much for it being time for the drawing of the names.

"The impressive mountains! The dangerous quarries! The powerful tributes! Yes, District 2 is definitely the best District in all of Panem," Glitter continues. "I even dyed my hair District 2 orange! Got it done at Tiffany's, best hair salon in the entire Capitol. The decor in that place is so gourmet!"

I can't help but turn the corners of my lips upwards at the escort's misuse of the word "gourmet". I do wish she'd get on with it, though.

"And now, since we started with the girls last year, let's meet our brave boy tribute!"

* * *

**A/N: I hope you enjoyed this chapter! This story still has a few open male tribute slots, so whether or not you're new please consider sending tributes. This story is entirely from Pyra's POV, so please keep that in mind, but I'll take whoever I get first-come-first-served.**

**I'll see you all hopefully soon!**


	4. 4

Glitter bounces over to the Reaping Bowl with the boys' names. She dips her hand in and swirls it around before choosing a slip and walking back to the microphone.

"Alright!" Glitter screeches as she opens up the slip of paper. "Will Marcio Ferreira please come to the stage!"

I expect a shout of "I volunteer", but it doesn't come. I'm not that surprised, though, because sometimes the chosen volunteer likes to wait for the Reaped tribute to have their moment on stage before volunteering. The Reaped tribute emerges from the section of sixteen-year-old boys and looks around confusedly before making his way to the stage with a smile. He doesn't walk for very long, however, before a voice yells out, "I volunteer as tribute!"

The District erupts into cheers and applause as Marcio quietly ducks back towards his place in the crowd and our chosen volunteer for the male tribute slot steps forward from the section of seventeen-year-old boys. I don't really pay attention to the Academy's decisions, but I do know the chosen volunteer's name. Adrian Gemme is somewhat scrawny in comparison to most of our volunteers, but he's still strong, and confident too by the looks of it. He's probably overconfident, to be honest, considering his gelled hair and leather jacket that he likely thinks makes him look badass. I roll my eyes but obligatorily clap my hands for the volunteer as he saunters towards the stage.

The Main Square quiets down as Adrian gets onto the stage. He winks while pointing finger guns at Glitter and flashing the crowd a charming smile, which gets the District cheering again.

"Welcome, welcome!" Glitter exclaims, patting Adrian a little too hard on the back. "An intrepid volunteer! And what is your name?"

Adrian snatches the microphone out of Glitter's hands and yells, "My name is Adrian Gemme and I'm honored to be District 2's next Victor! I'll make you proud Dad!"

The crowd erupts into cheers, applause, and annoying vuvuzela sounds as Adrian takes a flashy bow and hands the microphone back to Glitter. Glitter takes it, and as soon as the crowd has quieted down, raises Adrian's hand into the air.

"District 2, your male tribute for the Twenty-Eighth Annual Hunger Games, Adrian Gemme!" Glitter shouts, and the crowd cheers again. Someone close to me pops a cracker, and I brush off the colorful confetti as it rains down onto me.

_Just one more hour at most, _I remind myself, taking a deep breath and trying not to cover my ears. _Then you can go home and go to sleep._

Glitter lets go of Adrian's hand, and the crowd quiets down long enough for our escort to walk over to the female Reaping Bowl. She reaches into the very bottom of the bowl and yanks her hand out, causing several slips of paper to scatter around her. Glitter smiles at the crowd as she walks back to the microphone and opens up the slip of paper.

"Pyra Cheng!" Glitter announces.

_Wait, that's me, _I think as Artemis turns towards me and smiles slightly. What are the odds that I got Reaped on my last year? I feel a wave of relief that I live in District 2 where there are volunteers every year, but then I feel a little nervous because everyone's staring at me. Couldn't Athena Skyler have volunteered as soon as my name was called, so I wouldn't have to deal with this?

Oh well, I might as well get this over with. If Athena is going to wait, so be it. I worm my way out of the crowd of eighteen-year-old girls and start walking down the aisle towards the stage. I lift my head up and smile, trying to look presentable, but my heart is beating super fast. At least the eighteen-year-olds are close to the stage.

I reach the stage quickly, hoping that I don't trip over my high heels as I climb the stairs. Why isn't Athena volunteering? Is she really going to drag this out? Adrian flashes me a smile as I get onto the stage, and I awkwardly smile back before looking away. Nobody told me how I was supposed to act if I actually got Reaped. Great, now the entire District is staring at me. It's okay, deep breaths. I've been on stages before. I'll just wait for Athena to volunteer and then I won't have this unwanted attention anymore.

"Are there any volunteers?" Glitter asks.

Okay Athena, it's about time. You're the Academy's chosen female volunteer this year and there's no use dragging this out for any longer. Five seconds pass, and the crowd is silent as ever. I frown. There's a movement in the section of eighteen-year-old girls as Athena's friend is smiling and nudging her - yes, I recognize Athena in the crowd - but our chosen female volunteer is staring straight ahead with a poker face.

_What?_

The crowd starts murmuring, and so do the important people sitting behind me. Five more seconds pass, and Glitter speaks up.

"No volunteers? Okay-"

Then many people start shouting at once.

"I volunteer!"

"Wait!"

"I volunteer as tribute!"

"I volunteer!"

Several hands are shooting up, and a few girls are jostling their way out of the crowd. I look to this year's mentors in panic. This has never happened before. I glance towards Athena Skyler, who is still standing there, though people are giving her angry looks. Julia Yamaguchi, one of this year's mentors, is standing up when Glitter's declarative voice rings through the Square.

"The time for volunteering has passed!" Glitter says with a smile as the girls rushing to the stage stop and look up in confusion. "District 2, your female tribute for the 28th Annual Hunger Games is Pyra Cheng!"

Glitter hastily raises my hand into the air.

My heart drops to my stomach, and my eyes widen in fear. Suddenly, it's hard to breathe.

_No, _I think as shouts ring throughout the Square. _No. No. No._

* * *

**A/N: I hope you enjoyed this chapter! What do you think about how Pyra got Reaped?**

**This story still has a few open male tribute slots, so whether or not you're new please consider sending tributes. This story is entirely from Pyra's POV, so please keep that in mind, but I'll take whoever I get first-come-first-served.**

**I'll see you all hopefully soon!**


	5. 5

"Everybody quiet down!" Glitter yells, though her usual grin is still plastered on her face. Several people in the Square had been murmuring, and Valor Smith, District 2's oldest Victor, had gotten up from his seat on the stage. At the sound of Glitter's command, however, the District uneasily settles down.

_Why isn't anyone doing anything? _I think, looking around in doesn't take me long to realize the answer to my question, however. Glitter, ditzy as she is, is representing the Capitol. Nobody wants to defy the Capitol.

Julia Yamaguchi glares daggers at Glitter as our Mayor retakes the stage on Glitter's cue. The Square is silent as Mayor Gladstone reads the standard Treaty of Treason, but Valor, the legendary Victor of the First Hunger Games, isn't the only one in the Square giving me a look of pity. For the first time in at least ten years, District 2 is feeling a sense of discontent at a Reaping, and it's all that stupid bitch's fault. And by stupid bitch I mean both Athena Skyler, whose job it was to volunteer but she didn't, and Glitter Diamond, who drew my name out of that bowl, among other things.

I hate this. Pity is something I'm used to, but nothing could have prepared me for being Reaped into the Hunger Games, where I'm going to die.

_I'm going to die._

Tears quickly come to my eyes as I think about my fate, and I don't bother stopping them. Who cares if people think I'm weak? I really _am _weak, and I guess at this point it's better to gain sympathy than pretend to be strong when I'm definitely not. And how can I be strong in this situation? I've never been a strong person. There's no way I'll survive the Hunger Games. I have zero Career Training, I have the physical fitness of a chair, and for five years I've been sitting at home, depressed and barely able to get by in school. It'll be a miracle if I'm not the first to die.

"District 2, your tributes for the 28th Annual Hunger Games, Adrian Gemme and… Pyra Cheng," Mayor Gladstone announces somberly, snapping me out of my thoughts. "Tributes, shake hands."

I take a deep breath as I turn to my District Partner, who may as well be the one to kill me in a few day's time. I realize that I'm trembling as I hold out my hand for Adrian to shake. He smiles at me, but his eyes betray confusion and pity. I look away. I don't need any more confusion and pity when I have plenty of it myself.

Still, Adrian and I shake hands, and the moment we return to our positions on the stage the anthem of Panem begins to play. I stare out into the discontented crowd, my tears still flowing freely as I think about what's coming next.

As soon as the Anthem ends, six Peacekeepers march onto the stage. Three of them huddle around Adrian, and the remaining three guide me into the Justice Building. As scared as I am, I know better than to not follow them. The blast of air conditioning is a welcome reprieve from standing outside in the sun.

I've never been inside District 2's Justice Building before. I've had no reason to do so, seeing that I've never had to take any tesserae or done any official business with the Mayor. My mom has been here a few times as a landlady on business and has tried to talk me into coming with her, but I've never wanted to follow in my mother's footsteps. She's only a good person to those she loves.

I don't want to see my mother. Or my father, for that matter.

Not because I don't love them. I do love them. They annoy me, I wish I could be independent from them, and I don't agree with everything they do. But they care for me and they were there for me when no one else was. No, I don't want to see my parents because I don't know what to say to them.

"I'll miss you?" Even if that's true, at the same time I won't miss them because if there's one good thing about being in the Capitol it'll be being free from my parents' nagging. "I love you but please stop being annoying?" That just sounds dickish. "I'm sorry?" What good will that do? Yes, I'm sorry for a lot of things, including how I've treated my parents in the past, but I won't be able to make amends unless I came back from the Hunger Games. Which won't happen.

God, I'm not ready for more crying. I _hate _crying.

I'm escorted into a luxurious room with velvet couches and crystal chandeliers. A Peacekeeper tells me that I have an hour for my loved ones to visit me and say goodbye. Then he closes and locks the door behind him, and I'm left alone.

I flop down onto the largest sofa and bawl loudly, not caring who walks in on me because this isn't _fair_. I have every right to be emotional because I don't want to _die_. I reach out, and my hand brushes against a tissue.

_How thoughtful of them, _I think bitterly as I wipe my eyes with a tissue and throw it into an empty trash can. _Let's see if I can get through an entire box this hour._

* * *

**A/N: I hope you enjoyed this chapter!**

**I don't have a set deadline for tributes, but if I get into the Reaping Recap portion of the Train Ride and I still have some open tribute slots I'll probably fill them with my own characters. Just a heads up in case anyone still wants to send tributes.**

**Thanks for reading, and I'll see you all hopefully soon!**


	6. 6

I'm still lying facedown on the couch crying when the door to the room opens. My family - Mom, Dad, and Niya - rush in, and I sit up so I can talk to them. Mom throws herself into my arms, sobbing.

I awkwardly hug her back, not knowing what to say. There's no point telling her that things will be okay because they won't. I think we're fine just hugging and crying, though. What else can we do? Niya sits on the other side of me and hugs me around my waist, while Dad sits off to the side, not crying or touching his family because he isn't the type to do that. For a while we just sit like that, Mom and I crying loudly.

"Mom," I croak out at last, because I have to say _something_. "You have to be okay without me. All of you."

Mom just sobs louder, shakes her head, and buries her tear-stained face into my shoulder. I push her away, not wanting this to be harder than it already is.

"You have to move on," I say, even though I'm crying messily myself. "Keep working to go far in life, all of you. Go to therapy if you have to. This includes you, Dad." I shoot a pained glance at my father, my proud father who never wants to admit that something's wrong with him.

"You should have trained," Mom says, letting go of me to bury her head in her hands. "You should have gone to Mission so you could have a chance."

"Well, it's too late for that now, so just move on, okay?" I say harshly, anger bubbling up inside me that my mother mentioned the nearby Academy. My anger doesn't last long, though, because I don't want to end things with my family on a sour note. "Please. Please be okay without me. I'm sorry I treated you badly and I'm sorry I'm so depressed, but…" I let out a sob. "I love you all."

"I love you too," Mom sobs, hugging me again. I lean my head against her shoulder and glance at Niya, my sister who I love more than anyone else in the world.

"Niya, you have to keep fighting," I say. "Please don't end up like me."

"I'll try not to, swibbs," my younger sister says with a smile, and I can't help but smile as well at her use of her nickname for me. My mom stops hugging me for a while so I can turn to my sister and clasp her hands in mine.

"Tell people and get help whenever you don't feel okay," I continue. "Stay in school. And keep training in the Academy just in case something like this happens again. Don't volunteer, though." I grab a tissue and blow my nose. "Please don't. The Hunger Games are not worth throwing away your life over."

"Don't worry, I'm not stupid enough to volunteer for the Games," Niya says. She lets out a sob as she hugs me. "I'll miss you, ya depressed peanut."

"I'll miss you too," I sob, hugging my sister back. "But please promise me to be okay. Do something you love with your life and get help when you need it, okay?"

"Okay," Niya says. "Swibby, can you try your best to come home?"

"I will," I say, hugging Niya tighter and meaning it. "I promise. I may be a depressed peanut but I'm willing to try, at least for you."

"Learn a weapon," Dad says, and I turn to face him. He's still trying to appear stoic, but I can see tears in his eyes.

"I know," I say. "I'll learn as much as I can during Training. I'll start by getting exercise."

"You should ally with the Career Pack," Mom says, drying her tears with a tissue. "They can protect you."

"I don't think so," I say with a sad smile. "I know I'm from District 2 but they won't want me."

"How do you know that?" Dad asks. "You have plenty to offer them."

"Dad, don't do that," I say, grabbing a tissue to wipe away fresh tears. "They're looking for willing killers who have trained their whole lives. I don't exactly fit the bill. They won't want me, and I don't want them."

"How do you know that if you don't try?" Mom asks. "Give it a try. Maybe the Careers will take you, and protect you."

"I know they won't," I say steadily, hating the fact that I'm arguing with my parents again. "I won't last long in their Pack once it's clear that I can't fight. I think I'm better off going into these Games on my own. I don't trust anyone to not betray me and put their own interests first."

"I think an ally can help you," Dad says, frowning. "Maybe someone from the Outer Districts? I know it's hard for you to talk to people, but…"

"Please don't make me do something I don't want to do," I say, raising my voice. I let out a sob. "I know you just want the best for me, Dad, but I don't think I can do it. I'll do my best to survive, but that means doing things in a way that feels comfortable for _me_."

"I see where you're coming from," Dad says slowly, though I can tell he isn't convinced. Maybe he thinks that there's no way I'll survive and is just accepting that I'll spend the remainder of my life doing things my way. Well, I don't blame him. I don't think there's any way I'll survive either.

"Please try, okay?" Mom asks, crying again.

"I will," I say, meaning it. "I promise. And you guys have got to try as well."

"Don't worry sis, I'll try not to be depressed," Niya says, though she's still crying. I hug her, and Mom hugs me, and we sit there hugging and crying until a Peacekeeper tells us that we only have a few minutes left.

"I think you should go," I say softly, disentangling myself from my family. "I don't want things to be even harder than they already are."

"Please do your best," Mom says, hugging me and not standing up.

"I will, I will," I say. "Guys, please leave. We don't need to have them force you to go."

"I know," Niya says, standing up and giving me one last hug. "Come on, Mom."

"Oh, Pyra, my baby," Mom sobs, still not letting me go. I pat her head awkwardly and try to wriggle away, but my mother doesn't budge.

"Mom, you have to let go," I sob, pushing her away. "Please. Go. Leave me."

Mom nods and kisses me on the cheek before slowly letting go of me and standing up. She takes a long look at me as Dad and Niya make their way to the door. I turn my back to my family, sobbing and hating the fact that they're taking so long to leave.

"Go," I say. I want to add "I love you", but I don't because I don't want to make things harder than they already are.

"I love you," Mom says. I don't see my family leave the room, but I'm glad that they do. The sooner they accept my death and move on, the better.

I hear the door shut, and I grab another tissue.

* * *

**A/N: I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I don't have anything else to say this time around so I'll see you all hopefully soon.**


	7. 7

I'm not sure if anyone else will come visit me. Artemis might, but I wouldn't blame her if she just wants to go home after the Reaping. I can't really call anyone else besides her a friend. There are a few people in the District I know and like, but I don't talk to anyone much. It's really weird. Even if I like someone, it seems that I lose contact with them quickly. It's probably my unlikable personality combined with the fact that they have cooler people to hang out with.

There's a timid knock on the door, and I straighten up, wiping away tears with a tissue.

"Come in," I say, trying to sound friendly.

Artemis quietly opens the door, steps in, and closes the door behind her. She sits down on a one-person couch across from me.

"Hi," I say wearily, glad that she's here but not sure what to say.

"That was some bad luck," my best friend murmurs. "I wonder why Athena didn't volunteer."

"I guess it doesn't matter now," I say bitterly. "All I can do is try my best and hope I get lucky."

"Mmhmm," Artemis says, nodding slowly. She's stoic as always, but I appreciate that about her. I've never seen her cry, even when I've been an emotional wreck in front of her, rambling about my failed romances and how much I wish the boys I liked returned my feelings. I've moved past that phase, for the most part. Sometimes I still randomly get sad about boys, but this happens less and less.

"I need to get my fitness up first," I say with a humorless chuckle. "Can't do anything in the Games if I'm out of breath from the slightest jog."

"I think that's a good idea," Artemis says. We sit in silence for a few moments, and when it's clear that there isn't much else to say Artemis stands up and walks to the door.

"Good luck, Pyra," she says, opening the door.

"Thanks," I say. "You too."

The door closes behind my best friend, and I lean back and sigh. That went better than my family's visit. At least I didn't cry.

I'm surprised when the door opens again and three people stand at the door.

"Hey," I say to my friends from school, if I can call them friends. I haven't talked to them in a few months, after I stopped hanging out with people. It was totally my fault that we grew distant. I couldn't connect with them at all, especially not after Matthew rejected me, so I stopped putting in the effort. I've been sitting alone at lunch for the past few months, and that's only during the days I can actually muster up the effort to go to school.

"Hi," Genevieve says with a small smile. "Can we come in?"

"Yeah, sure," I say, trying to smile back. Genevieve, Matthew, and Ashley come into the room, closing the door behind them and sitting down on the seats across from me.

We're silent for an uncomfortably long time. Nobody knows what to say, but I'm glad that they cared enough to visit me. Maybe it's just because of the unfair circumstances with which I ended up in the Hunger Games, but at least they're here.

"So that was some bad luck, Pyra," Ashley says, finally breaking the silence. "That's… a bummer."

"Yeah," I say with a sigh. I straighten up, trying not to look like too much of a loser. "Thanks for coming, guys."

"Hey, after something like that happened, the least we could do was wish you good luck," Matthew says with a smile. I find myself blushing slightly as I look away. He's as nice and good-natured as ever. What did I do to deserve his kindness? My chest feels tight. Maybe I still have feelings for him after all.

_No, it's not going to work, _I think. _He said he didn't return my feelings. Besides, he's way out of my league. At this point, everyone is._

"Thanks, really," I say. I take a deep breath. "I'm sorry I stopped talking to you guys. It's just that I've been really depressed. I'll try my best to come home, though."

"We'll miss you," Ashley says.

I nod, and the room descends into uncomfortable silence again. My heart drops in my stomach when I realize that they didn't say that they were looking forward to talking to me again. Well, I guess that's to be expected. They have a lot of other friends, after all, and I'm pretty sure I'd make them uncomfortable with my issues anyways. Still, tears form in my eyes again, and I quickly wipe them away.

"Are you crying?" Genevieve asks.

"Yes," I say, not bothering to hide it. "It's alright. Thanks for coming, you guys."

We sit in silence for a while longer. This is so annoying. I wish I had something else to say, but I don't. I'm very tempted to tell Matthew how much I still love him, but that's ridiculous. I'm not actually sure what my feelings towards him are these days, and besides, what good would that do?

"Hey guys, I think you should go," I say finally. I realize how mean that sounds and take a deep breath. "I mean, you all are really cool, but I kind of want to be alone right now."

Damn it, that sounds really mean too. But Ashley nods and stands up, and Genevieve and Matthew follow.

"Good luck in there, okay?" Matthew says as he follows Ashley and Genevieve out of the door.

"Yeah, of course," I say. Matthew nods, and my acquaintances from school leave, shutting the door behind them.

I sigh and lie down again, tears flowing freely. My heart hurts. This is literally the worst day of my life. And I know this isn't over. Even if I miraculously survive, nothing will ever be the same ever again.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for following this story!**

**If any of you are wondering how long this story will be, the answer is that I honestly have no idea. I'm aiming for between 60,000 and 70,000 words, but it'll probably end up being longer than that. I'll try not to drag anything out for too long.**

**I'll see you all hopefully soon!**


	8. 8

I don't know how long I wait in the luxurious Goodbye Room. Sometimes I think I'm done crying, only for fresh tears to spring up. The trash can has a substantial amount of tissues in it when the door opens and Glitter Diamond walks in.

My first instinct is to glare at her. It's her fault, after all, that I'm in this mess. But I quickly remember that I'll have to respect and get along with Glitter, who is my escort and guide through these Games. She's the one who's supposed to help me get sponsors in the Arena, and I know that sponsor gifts can mean the difference between life and death. So I force a smile at my idiotic escort.

"Follow me, Pyra," she says. I raise my eyebrows slightly. She's substantially quieter than she was on stage. Perhaps Julia and Valor gave her a stern talking-to, since it was her incompetence that got a completely untrained tribute from District 2 into the Games.

Maybe I can work with Glitter after all.

I nod and stand up from the sofa, wiping away tears one last time. Glitter asks Adrian to follow her as well before leading the two of us out of District 2's Justice Building.

"Yo, that sucked," Adrian says as we walk.

I take a while to turn around to face him. "Oh, are you talking to me?" I ask, surprised.

"Yep," Adrian says with a smile. "Pyra, huh? Nice name. Like Pyro, but with a neat twist."

"Hey," I say, trying to keep an honest but non-threatening tone. "I think we should stay out of each other's way. Not because I don't like you, but we're in the Hunger Games and I think it's in both of our interests to not ally."

"Whoa, straight to the point," Adrian chuckles. "Wanna at least grab a snack together? I hear they have amazing food on the train."

"Sorry, I'll have to decline," I say politely, though internally I'm panicking. Why is Adrian being so friendly to me? Is he trying to lure me into trusting him while planning to kill me when I least expect it? I don't trust him one bit - I won't trust _anyone _in the Arena - but what if he decides to target me for saying no to him? I've seen the type of Career from Two. They'll murder you if you so much as look at them wrong.

"Aww, that's a bummer," Adrian says, flashing a smile at me again. "I think you'll change your mind once you see the food on the train."

We reach a large set of double doors, which open into bright sunlight and camera flashes. Adrian nudges me, and I flinch. I've never liked being touched unless I'm extremely close to the person - hell, even Artemis and I never hug each other. Adrian doesn't seem to notice my discomfort, however.

"Hey Pi, it's the cameras," Adrian says excitedly.

_Please don't call me that, _I think anxiously, but I'm forced to put off that statement because I don't want to look completely unpresentable to the cameras. Sure, it's obvious that I've been crying, but I can at least smile for the sponsors. So I force a small smile and wave slightly at the camera people. Adrian is flashing charming grin after charming grin, making finger guns and other obnoxious poses, while Glitter is eating up the attention as well. I just follow them, uncomfortable.

After far too long, I step into the train behind Glitter and Adrian. I draw in a deep breath upon seeing the sheer luxury of the train compartment and feeling the movement of the train. The room where I said my goodbyes is nothing compared to the shiny walls, polished furniture, and modern decor of this train.

I stumble a little as the train speeds along. Adrian grabs my wrist and flashes me another smile. I reflexively scowl at him before turning my attention to the two mentors who are sitting on the fancy maroon sofa in front of the TV. Valor Smith stands up and faces Glitter, Adrian, and me.

"Welcome to the Hunger Games, Adrian… Pyra," he says, smiling, though his smile doesn't reach his sad eyes. "As you may know already, I'm Valor Smith, one of District 2's mentors for this year. The first order of business is that I must ask you two whether you want to be coached together or separately."

"Separately, please," I say.

"Together," Adrian says at the same time.

I purse my lips as Adrian nudges me again. "Not changing your mind?" he asks lightly.

I hesitate. I guess I _could_ give in and work with Adrian… but that would mean possibly joining the Career Pack when I am completely unfit to do so. Besides, I don't know what Adrian's plan is, but I'm pretty certain that my plan is to go through these Games alone. I can't trust anyone to not stab me while I'm asleep, or something.

"Nope," I say, trying to be neutral yet firm.

"Alright, you know where to find me if you change your mind," Adrian says with a wink. He turns to Valor. "I guess we can go separately. Valor, where should we go?"

"Actually," Valor says, stroking his chin, "I was hoping you could work with Julia, Adrian. I know we agreed that Athena would work with Julia, but Athena isn't here, so…"

Adrian looks surprised but nods. "Okay," he says as he turns towards Julia Yamaguchi, who has stood up from her seat on the couch.

"Alright Adrian, come with me," Julia says. She glares at Glitter. "And Glitter, stay the fuck out of this."

"Language," Glitter mutters, but she turns and walks primly out of the compartment. Julia sighs, gives me a sympathetic glance, and leaves the main room with Adrian. My District Partner makes finger guns at me as he leaves. I smile back, but I don't know how much more of him I can take.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks a million for everyone who is following and/or reviewing this story. As of this writing, this story is officially closed, with all the tribute slots filled, and I can't thank you guys enough.**

**If you want to answer these questions, what do you think of Adrian and our first glimpse of Pyra's Games strategy? Why do you think Valor wants to mentor Pyra?**

**I'll see you all hopefully soon! I'm alternating updates of this story with other stories and I predict we'll see updates to this story once every two weeks.**


	9. Raindrops

The storm follows me. I prevail.

* * *

**A/N: **_**Raindrops **_**is discontinued. I know I have a bad habit of discontinuing everything I start writing, and I'm sorry. In this case, however, I have to do it because continuing this story is too mentally painful for me. I thought it could be fun writing an SYOT from the POV of just one character, but most importantly I was hoping that writing this story could be therapeutic for me. Unfortunately, it's had the opposite effect because I absolutely cannot put a character who is basically myself through the hell of the Hunger Games.**

**I just don't want to be unkind to myself, and I hope you all can understand. To everyone who submitted, reviewed, or otherwise showed interest in this story, I can't thank you enough. If you submitted a tribute to this story, you're free to send them elsewhere so they can be written.**

**Thanks again for understanding, and have a great day!**


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